Seiken Densetsu 3: Entirety
by Calypso1
Summary: Everything that happened since that fateful day of the Faerie choosing the legendary Hero... (DISCONTINUED)
1. Prologue

Once, when the world was yet trapped in darkness, the goddess of Mana felled 8 incarnations of disaster that guided the world to destruction, the God-Beasts, with the Sword of Mana, and sealed them in 8 stones __

Once, when the world was yet trapped in darkness, the goddess of Mana felled 8 incarnations of disaster that guided the world to destruction, the God-Beasts, with the Sword of Mana, and sealed them in 8 stones. And, as the darkness left, the world was created.

The goddess of Mana turned herself into a tree, and fell asleep. Many years passed…

Due to the action of some who plot to unleash the God-Beasts from the stones, obtain power surpassing even that of the gods, and to make the world their own, conflict breaks out heralding the end of peace…

Mana is rapidly disappearing from the earth. Even the Mana tree has begun to wither…

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The faerie touched the weathering roots of the Mana tree, pulling back her minute hand as she felt the slimy bark. Beneath her was a pool of water, her reflection clouded by the unseen pollution that had struck the Holyland. The goddess's cries from deep within the tree reverberated in her soul, for Mana was disappearing, being depleted by an unknown force.

"Goddess…" came the faint sob as the faerie crouched down before the tree. Not a single wind caressed her hair to assure her; the air was dead still and humid beyond belief. It oppressed her, threatening to crush her tiny body and toss it away without a second thought.

"What is happening?" Opalescent wings beat against deaf ears, trying to stir up the dreary atmosphere. Glancing up, her teary eyes drank in the sight of forlorn clouds against the red-tinted sky. Everywhere was the feeling of death and decay, covering the Holyland slowly in a blanket of despair.

"Why won't you answer?" A single crystal tear dropped from her cheek and plopped into the water, melting into the murky depths. Drab plants that had once been tropical beauties were devoid of their usual vivid wildlife. Not a creature was to be seen in the dying Holyland.

"Sisters, where are you?"

A faint hum reached her ears, and the faerie turned to see three of her kin.

"The goddess is dying," stated one, her face twisted into a mask of pain.

"The Mana is disappearing," declared another, blue eyes downcast.

"What can we do?" the last queried, wringing her hands worriedly.

Straightening her cyan smock, the crouching faerie got up. "I fear there is nothing we can do." Her voice choked up on her, pushing her to the brink of tears.

"There must be something!" the three chorused, floundering for an answer.

"Can't we find the Hero?" the curious last one questioned.

"Yes, yes, the Hero! He'll save the Mana!"

"He'll slay the evil one for sure!"

The first faerie turned towards the towering Mana tree, ducking her head as a leaf withered and fell upon her. She grabbed at the wrinkled object, crushing it to dust in her hands. Tossing aside the remains in disgust, she cried, "Mana goddess, please forgive us, but we must leave your side and forget our valiant watch. There is a Hero to be found if we are to save this Holyland."

Her trio of kinfolk celebrated, dancing around and hugging each other merrily. "The Hero, the Hero!" they shouted happily, relieved to find that there was an answer.

"Please, please, stop it!" the beginning faerie screeched. Her voice echoed eerily in the stillness as the three became subdued. "We must leave now to find the Hero and return as soon as possible. It will be a long and hard journey, so gather your strength, girls. You will need it."

The last faerie gulped, unsure of whether she would be able to make it or not.

"Let us go."

They sprung into the air as a quartet, tiny wings defying the deafening silence of the deserted Holyland. And it was they who would oppose this evil and find the Hero, the one that would be the salvation of them all.


	2. Introductions: Altena's Princess

AngelasIntro __

The Magic Kingdom Altena…

A cold, desolate fortress of mystery stationed in the northernmost corner of the world…

It was kept temperate by the queen's magic, permitting wildlife and foliage to flourish as if it were a lush jungle…

As the Mana started to disappear, the cold began to creep in, coating the outer walls with a thick, freezing layer of ice and snow…

In the middle of it all was a frustrated teenage girl, greedy for attention…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

"To properly form a fireball, you must first concentrate on your own fi-are you listening to me, Angela?"

Jose glanced up from his book, eyes narrowed suspiciously at the young lady beside him. Adjusting his spectacles, he gave a tired sigh as he received no answer. "Angela, darling, please pay attention."

"Hm?" came the puzzled reply. Angela twisted a lock of flowing purple hair around her finger, oblivious to all around her. "More magic talk?"

The old man placed the book on a half-filled shelf. "Angela, your mother is not going to be happy with either of us the way you're progressing. She will think I have not taught you, and you have not urged me to teach you."

"Well, you know what? Screw mother. I don't care what she thinks," Angela retorted, pulling up her form fitting crimson clothing that was like a strapless, one-piece bathing suit. Her outfit was complete with indigo gloves, diadem, and "boots" that came halfway up her shin, all made out of a satiny cloth.

Jose wagged a warning finger at her. "Now now, that is no way to speak of your mother. You should really be learning right now…"

Straightening up, the upstart teenager glared at her instructor. "Learn what? How to make a fool out of myself while casting a wimpy snowflake or cinder? How to become like everyone else in this Mana forsaken kingdom? How to be like my _mother_? No. Don't think so."

"Your mother is a great magician. Why would you not want to use those powers? You can use them. Trust me." Jose smiled, his eyes disappearing amidst his wrinkly face.

Angela sprang aside, holding out her hand and clamping her eyes shut. She wondered if she was standing right, and peeked briefly to see if she would embarrass herself with her stance.

"No, Angela, no," Jose said, shaking his head, "magic is not all form. You're concentrating too much on how you look. Magic has to come from the heart-"

A menacing glare from the furious Princess froze Jose in mid-sentence. "You know what, Jose, I am _so_ sick of your little preachings! If you and my mom are such great magicians, then magic some skills into me! Otherwise, I am out of here!" Grabbing her staff, Angela stormed out of the library, leaving a bewildered Jose in her wake.

"Oh dear…"

Ducking her head under the stone arch, Angela ran into the fresh air. She drew a sharp breath as goose bumps rippled over her body. "Can't that furnace work properly? It's starting to get chilly here."

Walking along the parapet, she gazed out over the castle walls into the wilderness. Specks of green and gray danced about, the sun glinting off of their tridents. "Dumb animals," Angela muttered, "don't know why Koren doesn't just wipe 'em out for good."

"Hey Angela!"

The voice shook her from her musings as she leaned over the opposite wall. "Hey Victor, the name's 'Princess!'" she called, waving her hand.

"Whatever, Princess. Did you skip class again?" The blonde-haired man cast an accusing glance at her from the courtyard.

A blush spread across Angela's cheeks as she became surprised at her inability to respond. Must he always ask her that?

Victor shook his head knowingly. "I know you all too well, Princess. I'm the one that has to listen to Jose complain after you have skipped class."

"Ah, the old man complains to my friend? He's trickier than I thought." Grinning impudently, she tossed back her amethyst tresses.

The young man rolled his eyes at Angela. "Anyway, your mother wants to see you once their meeting adjourns, okay?"

"Mother wants to see me?" she spat, unable to hide the distaste in her voice. "That must be the first time in what, my whole life?"

"How long must you bear that grudge against your mother? She has a kingdom to run, you know that. It takes a lot out of her. I have to go though - I'll be in my room if you need me." He waved good-bye before promptly turning and disappearing into the castle.

Running a kingdom kept a mother from loving her child? That was the excuse as to why she was truly alone in the world? "That's what they all say, Victor. That's what they all say."

Angela hung around outside the door, wondering when the official would let her in. "Are they done yet?"

"No, they're not! You asked two seconds ago! Are you going to ask again?" The infuriated officer reached out to whack the young lady, but she skittered away at the last second.

"No need to get violent, miss!" Angela chuckled, holding up a hand.

Curling her lip up in a snarl, the official raised her staff and started to chant. "I'll show you violent, Prin-"

The door cracked open and a magician of high rank popped his head out. "The meeting's done, lady!" He then met the blazing green eyes of Angela's stare. "Oh, Princess, I didn't see you! Come right on in!"

Smirking at the officer, Angela followed the man inside.

"What was this meeting for?" she asked curiously as they skirted the round table.

Raising an eyebrow at his Princess, he replied, "About the Mana Stone. Your mother is planning something a bit dangerous. Koren's in on it, too."

A guttural sound bubbled up within Angela's throat as she heard that name. "Of course Koren's in on it. My mother pays more attention to him in a minute than she's paid to me my whole life."

"Shhh, Princess, you never know who might hear you."

They crossed a cobbled hall, the dimness warded away by torches kept alit by mage energy. A purple-clad guard paced in front of a set of double doors, delicately carved to give off a regal air.

"Good day, Princess," the sentry greeted, bowing respectively. "You wish to see the Queen of Reason?"

"Yes, please," Angela responded, putting on her practiced air of politeness.

"Right this way then." The guard pushed open the doors and gestured for her to continue.

Angela walked into the throne room, squinting her eyes against the brilliant light. The afternoon sun shone through the stained glass windows, bathing the area in a variety of striking colors. Two rows of mages stood in the middle of the room, their heads lowered. Angela glanced up as she saw her mother rise from the golden throne, malevolence painted on her features.

"Angela, come here," she barked, her voice harsh as ever.

Refusing the urge to bite her mother's head off, the young lady strode forward, receiving wary looks from the magicians on either side. Approaching the steps, Angela nodded her head in mere acknowledgment of her mother, no more, no less.

"Yes?" Angela questioned, her face full of innocence.

"You are in the Queen's presence. Address her as you would be addressed," scowled a mage from nearby.

Angela shot a glare in the red-robed man's direction. "You did not address me as I should be addressed, Koren."

"Why you little upsta-"

"Enough!" the Queen cried, slamming a fist upon the throne's armrest. "Both of you be quiet or you shall be put outside in the snow."

Koren, the Wizard of the Red Lotus, fawned at this comment by the Queen, but did not pale like Angela. "Are we to tell her of our plans?"

"What plans?" Angela broke in, suspicious of what her mother was hiding.

"The ones that we have to obtain the Sword of Mana. We can no longer live in a frozen climate like this; the Mana is disappearing, the winter is closing in on us. That is why the only action we can take is to open the gate to the Holyland and posses the sword." Queen Valda sat back down, maintaining the poise of a royal figurehead.

"And how do you propose getting the gate open?" Angela inquired, hands akimbo in a demanding stance.

"By capturing the eight Mana Stones and releasing their spirits. We're going to carry out the invasion of Forcena, first. But there is one, tiny matter that we must address, though," Koren stated, a smug grin stretching across his narrow face.

"And what would that matter be?"

"We need to release the power of the Mana Stone of Ice. To do so, a powerful spell must be used: the Sealed Ancient Magic, that is normally forbidden." The Crimson Mage cocked his head at the Queen for her to pick up where he left off.

"This spell is dangerous, as it will take the caster's life," Valda said matter-of-factly.

"That's dreadful!" Angela cried, surprised that her mother would go this far to acquire power.

"Oh, quite dreadful," Koren sympathized sarcastically. "But it must be done, you see."

"Who will be casting it?"

"Why, you will, my daughter," the Queen answered simply.

"What?!" Angela looked at her mother aghast, falling back a few steps. "You would never do that to your own daughter!"

"Frankly, I would do it to you. You have been worthless your whole life, an incredible shame to the Altena royal bloodline. There's not an ounce of magic in your body that you can use. If you had truly concentrated, you could have become like me, a perfect example of a mage. But you are not a magician and you will never become one. And to avoid shaming the whole bloodline, you will go down as a user of great magics, the one who made the glory of Altena possible." The Queen of Reason stood up, her sky blue dress swishing with the hiss of death. "Your fate has been decided."

Rage boiled in her veins as she mulled over this briefly. Her mother had always been determined to kill her, and now she had a decent excuse. But Angela would not let this happen. "No it hasn't, _Queen of Reason_!" the Princess mocked with sneering bitterness. "I won't go down as your little play toy; I won't be your puppet in turning Altena into a hellhole. It's my life and I will live it as I see fit, and not throw it away for you!" Angela shrieked, her voice echoing in the vaulted hall.

"Detain her!" Koren shouted, throwing his arms into the air. "No one talks to the Queen in that manner."

Violet-garbed officials filed in from the double doors, advancing toward her on Koren's orders. Their faces were emotionless, as if the Crimson Mage had captured their souls and possessed them. Then again, Angela would not even doubt that. She knew what he was capable of.

"Stay away!" she sobbed as they surrounded her, collapsing to the floor in a pitiful heap. Wisps of blue and white began to swarm around her like fireflies, warning the guards away with painful stings. A brilliant white light illuminated the room, temporarily blinding everyone, including Angela. Screams of surprise rang throughout the hall as the light subsided, and when it was over, a dark mark was left upon the velvet rug where Angela had fallen.

Koren and Valda looked upon the scene with wide eyes. The Crimson Mage was especially flabbergasted as he gave a single understatement. "She's gone…"

Angela woke up to a blast of cold air, shivers flowing through her body. The ground beneath her was simultaneously moist and freezing to the touch. Shifting her head uncomfortably, she noticed she was laying a sheet of ice, her skin in the process of becoming frozen to it.

"Ah shit," she mumbled through chattering teeth. Already her skin was becoming a pale shade of blue, her veins like purple spider webs beneath the surface. Angela struggled to get up, peeling her body from the ice painfully, no matter how much she tried to prevent it. She rubbed her gloved hands together vigorously, the friction warming her for the slightest second.

Leaning her weight onto her hands, she started to get up, moving inch by agonizing inch. Shards of ice clung to her legs as she tore them from the ground, and when the red-hot flashes subsided, she was free.

"Oh goddess," the teenager whispered, her breath coming out in opaque puffs.

She gazed about her surroundings, the snow sparkling like wildfire in the dying light. The sun was a half orb at the horizon, tinting the sky with shades of orange and red that faded into the comfort of the night. The first stars were coming out, and a frosty crescent moon hung high above in the still air.

Behind her was the kingdom of Altena, its turrets jutting up menacingly into the atmosphere. What had happened was coming back to her now. Her mother had wanted to kill her! How dare she! All of those days spent alone without the warm embrace of her mother had finally boiled down to the fact her mother wanted her dead. But she was not, for a white light had surrounded her, and everything went black. And now she was stranded outside in the freezing wilderness, with only her oaken staff to keep her company.

"Elrand ought to be near. I can make it there before nightfall," she spoke aloud to herself, adding a single word as an afterthought, "hopefully."

Trudging slowly through the shimmering drifts, she took the only path that she could see. It wound through a narrow canyon, and Angela trekked right down the middle, staying in the sunlight to gain every ounce of warmth she could. What she was wearing was not exactly the best snow wear around.

A crackle of foot steps sounded, causing Angela's brow to furrow in worry and fear. "Who's there?" she called out, trying to sound the commanding part of the princess she was.

Snickers met her ears as a trio of round, viridian bodies tumbled into view. They were not very tall and stood little chance of hitting the three foot mark. At first they seemed fish-like, for they had a dorsal fin running down their back, and their appendages were membranous; but were still feet and hands, as they held silver tridents. Puffy yellow lips adorned their chubby faces, set below twinkling black eyes that stared at her hungrily.

"What do you want?" Angela growled, one hand on her hip, the other clutching her staff.

Animalistic sounds escaped their mouths, and it was then Angela realized what they were: Sahagins!

She had learned about them in a boring history class one day, when they reviewed various monsters that had once prowled the tundras. Now there were three prime specimens standing before her, and she was nearly stiff with terror.

"Get away!" she warned, holding her staff out in front of her.

The largest Sahagin emitted a chuckling sound, its throat swelling like a frog's. A trident was pointed at her, and its partners began to attack.

Angela faltered at first, her reflexes slowed by the immense cold. The trident nearly caught her in the thigh, but she managed to twist back in time. Bringing her staff up, she cracked it down swiftly upon the nearest Sahagin head, knocking it backwards. The other caught her off guard, ripping a gash in the back of her right leg.

"You little bastard!" the young lady hissed, smacking at its spherical body with her staff.

The blow was blocked, sending tingling waves through her hands. A swift kick to what would pass as its torso solved the problem, sending it sprawling backwards into the first one.

"You ain't so tough, are you now?" Angela grinned at the remaining one.

A look of surprise passed its fishy features as it spun around and waddled off down the canyon path.

"That's what you get for messing with me!" she shouted after it triumphantly.

Taking a deep breath, she saw that the sun was sinking quickly below the skyline, and true coldness would set in. Gathering all of her strength, she began a slow jog, allowing her to move fast and keep warm at the same time.

The narrow, rocky walls began to spread out into a rolling plain, mountainous crags on either side. Trees with spiraling trunks towered into the sky, their boughs heavily laden with snow and tiny, glittering sparkles that illuminated the surrounding area with a multi-colored sheen. Right in the middle of the clearing was a group of green bodies, huddled together as if they were talking. A duo of seahorse-like creatures slithered about, keeping watch for the Sahagins.

"Ah shit," Angela cussed as one of them looked straight at her.

She didn't give it time to trumpet a warning, though. Raising her staff, she sent it spiraling towards the beast, striking it right in the chest. It toppled into the snow, unconscious.

A bugle-like cry broke the silence, and Angela saw the Sahagin group glance up as a whole and see her. She darted for the guard that she had struck down and grabbed her staff, backing up against a tree for protection.

"Get away!" she snarled, drawing a defending arc in the air with her staff.

A couple of brave Sahagins danced their way towards her and were quickly whacked between their beady eyes. One got in at her right side and deepened the gash that was there, causing her leg to buckle beneath her.

The Sahagins pounced upon her like a pack of ravenous wolves, gouging her body with their fearsome tridents.

"Get off of her!" a voice shouted from nearby, and the majority of the Sahagins scattered, with a handful backing up a few feet.

The remaining Sahagins jumped her again as foot steps vibrated through the ground, and the last thing Angela saw was a duo of men fighting them off. Darkness closed in around her like a comforting blanket as she slipped into unconsciousness.

"Mmmm," Angela hummed as she rolled over, enjoying the warmth of the quilt on top of her.

A quilt?

The young lady cracked her eyes open a bit, finding herself in an unfamiliar environment.

Warmth permeated the whole room, thanks to the blazing hearth in the center. Off to one side was a partition separating the beds from the work area and privy, adorned with a book case that was home to several thick, dusty volumes. The sounds of a little kid playing with her toys met her ears, and it was greatly welcomed in comparison to the usual crashing of ice and crackling of fire she was greeted with at Altena.

"Altena…" she breathed, shifting onto her back to gaze up at the ceiling.

"Whuzzat?" a small voice piped up.

Blinking quizzically, Angela turned her head to see a tiny, fiery-haired girl peeking over the edge of the bed.

"Hello!" she giggled, patting Angela on the head. The child then turned and called out, "Mommy, she's awake, she's awake!"

A medium sized woman scurried into the room, picking up her child. "Now now, Chichi, I told you to let her rest. This isn't the time to wake up people!"

"Sowwy mommy," the kid mumbled as she was put back down.

Angela sat up in her bed, a wide yawn pasted across her face as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "No, that's okay. Where am I?"

"Why, you're in the Snow City Elrand," the mother replied, grabbing a hold of her daughter before she could swipe Angela's quilt.

"Really? What the heck happened to me?" Angela asked as she smoothed down her hair.

"My husband and his friend were out in the Sub-Zero Snowfield looking for some decent firewood, and they saw you beset by the Sahagins, and saved you. The town cleric managed to heal most of your wounds, except for a gash on the back of your right leg; just a scar that's left. You're welcome to have breakfast," she invited, a warm smile on her face.

"Alright." Stretching, Angela tumbled out of bed, her tight suit in need of an adjustment. After doing so, she followed the woman and her child downstairs and took a seat at the glazed wooden table in the dining area. Across the room was the kitchen, next to a cheery fire that provided the heating for the downstairs area.

An old lady was sitting at the table, digging into an immense stack of pancakes with maple syrup. "Mmf, 's'good!" she managed to say through bites of the delicious food.

"That's Granma," Chichi said, giving a napkin to Angela. "She's aaalways hungry!"

"I see," Angela replied, taking the napkin and attempting not to giggle at the ridiculous ancient woman.

"You like your eggs scrambled or sunny side up? Bacon or sausage?" the mother called from the stove.

Angela brightened up at this, her stomach gurgling at the thought of being filled with food. "Sunny side up, and bacon, lots of it!" She licked her dry lips in anticipation of a home-cooked meal.

A few minutes later, breakfast was served. Angela dug into it with immense gusto, wolfing down a half dozen pieces of bacon, two eggs, and a whole, buttered muffin. Chichi watched the teenager with wide eyes, surprised that one person could be as hungry as her grandmother.

"Wow, mommy, she's just like Granma!" the little girl tittered.

"Be polite!" the mother snapped after swallowing a piece of sausage.

"Whuz your name?" Chichi persisted, ignoring her mother.

"My name?" Angela sputtered as she started in on her second muffin. "Anna, if ye please."

"Mommy, can I play wif Anna? I finished all my brekkist!" Chichi grinned as she showed her mother her clean plate.

"Not now, dear, she's still eating. I'll play with you, though." Wiping her lips daintily on a napkin, the mother got up and took Chichi over to the play corner, where blocks and toys were piled upon a woven rug.

Polishing her plate of crumbs, Angela got up from her seat and went over to the mother. "Do you mind if I go wander around the city?"

"Not at all, Anna. You're welcome back here for lunch and dinner!"

"Thank you," Angela stammered before exiting the homely cottage.

"Back out into the cold," the Princess muttered under her breath. Rubbing her arms to keep the blood in them, Angela headed for the nearest building: the Inn.

A pale green sign hung above the door, contrasting nicely with the dark pink and red brick. Dripping icicles and snow clung to the tiled roof, decorating it like icing would gild a cake.

Sliding inside, she immediately strode towards the fire, warming herself there.

"Well, welcome miss!" a voice greeted from behind her.

"Eh?" Angela turned around to meet the innkeeper, a humble smile upon his homely features.

"Do you require a room? Some food? Gossip and conversation?" he offered with a sweep of his old, gnarled hand.

"I'll take the last one, thank you," she answered, following him over to a group of tables by a bar.

"Ye've come to the right place then! Sit down, drink, and be merry!" A toothy grin filled his face as he went back to service at the counter.

Taking a seat, Angela joined a bunch of hearty men and women that were having a good morning. They welcomed her into the sociable group with open arms, and that was where Angela spent the majority of her day.

The sun peeked through the windows, calling Angela's name. It was beginning to set again, but Angela could hardly move, nor did she want to. She had just had a lovely meat pie for dinner, followed by a mixed fruit cobbler for dessert. A smile hovered about her face as she gazed out the window at the dying sun.

"Ye wish t'know 'bout yore future, miss?" rattled someone from nearby.

"My future?" Angela questioned, raising an eyebrow. Turning her head, she came face to face with a pale man, as old as the dirt was. His skin sagged down on his face, hiding his beady black eyes from view. An elaborate cloak covered his body, complete with a hood over his head and a ruby-beset clasp.

"Yiss, yiss, yore future!" he howled, taking one of her hands in his weathered ones. "Ye seem like ye want t'know 'bout it."

"I guess I do," Angela replied slowly, still horrified by the man's strange appearance.

"A person's life is ninety-nine percent fate, an' th'other is yore one percent hope guidin' ye. Sometimes, people are in such despair that they lose that bit o' hope. Have ye lost yore's yet?"

"I don't think so." She wished to pull her hand from his grasp, but his words interested her greatly.

"Then ye are not like th'poor Princess I have heard 'bout then, eh?"

Angela's heart began to pound madly in her chest as she heard this. "What about the Princess?" she queried, curious to know what the people already knew.

"Queen went mad, wants t'kill her! Bounty up for her head, dead or alive. My prayers go t'that girl. I've always hated Verta, haven't ye?"

"I haven't really paid attention," the young lady choked out, trying to conceal her surprise.

"Ye remind me o' th'Princess herself," the fortune teller remarked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Really? Mother always told me I looked like her," Angela parried, reacting before she would give herself away.

"Well, ye do look like her. Bit more rough an' tough, though. Th'Princess never got her hands dirtied, always stayed away from th'messy jobs an' hard life."

"Aye, I know what you mean," Angela joked, mentally forcing her beating heart to sit still. She couldn't give her identity way to anyone, not even this mysterious man.

"Is there something wrong, miss?" he asked, concerned for her.

"No, no, nothing's wrong," she responded, regaining her composure.

"If there is something wrong, ye should go t'th'Temple o' Light in th'Holy City, Wendel. When ye are lost in th'dark an' ye need a light, that is where ye go!" the fortune teller cried, emphasizing every single word.

"Huh, that's what he told me too. And you want to know what I wanted to ask him? Whether my baby was going to be a boy or girl! And he said go to Wendel! Rubbish, if you ask me," a man said from nearby as he drained the rest of his drink.

"Pay no attention to him, he's an impatient one! But ye look like a trip t'th'Temple o' Light could do ye some good. Go there! Ye won't regret it."

"But how do I get there?" Angela asked, wringing her hands.

"I believe there's a ship leavin' soon for Jad. That's jist north o' Wendel, a hop, skip, an' a jump away! Last ship outta here too, th'icebergs are gonna close th'harbor. Go now, if ye want to! Ye won't miss this dreary, cold place. Trust me." The tired man let go of her hand with a sigh, leaning back against his chair.

"Okay then…" Angela trailed off as she got up sluggishly and edged away from the tables. Once at the door, she flung it open and fled into the crisp evening air.

"Wendel, Wendel," she pondered as she came to a stop, looking down at the snow covered ground as she played with strands of her purple hair. If she went there, she could ask the Priest of Light about her mother and why she treated her child in such a fashion. Surely he could tell her that! "The Holy City… the Priest of Light… I don't know what else is waiting for me there, but I can't stay here. Good riddance to this place!"

Kicking the ground in anger at all of her childhood and recent memories, she ran towards the northern end of the city where the harbor was. A ship resided at the dock, flying a navy pendant from its topmost mast.

"Hello there lil lady! Are ya bound for Jad?" a sailor asked of her as he lowered the gangplank for her.

"Yes," the Princess replied, scrambling up the flimsy board and onto the ship.

"Well then, hold onto yore hat, it's gonna be one long night gittin' out o' this harbor!"

With those words, the ship set sail, bound with its cargo and fleeing Princess for Jad. Angela leaned upon the railing, looking out at the murky waters studded with icebergs, fading into the blanket of the night sky with all of its stars sewn on. Somewhere, beneath those same stars, was the Temple of Light in the Holy City, where she would find the answer to her existence.


	3. Introductions: Beast Kingdom's Heir

The Beast Kingdom… __

The Beast Kingdom…

A long forgotten castle in the forest run by powerful wolf-like creatures…

They were once persecuted by humans before one stood up for his kind…

He became known as the Beast King, and vowed to exact revenge on human kind…

Rage built up in them, until the Mana began to disappear, and they saw their chance to prove themselves…

The heir to the throne, half-human, half-beast, was not content with this…

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A moist tongue licked Kevin's face furiously, threatening to cover him in saliva if he didn't wake up. Spluttering, the young beast-human sat up, casting a joking glare at the wolf pup beside him.

"Ah, stop Karl, stop!" he giggled, hugging the pup around his neck.

The shaggy brown canine nuzzled against his friend's arm, a content rumble sounding in his throat.

Kevin looked about them, the familiar sight of deep sage and fuchsia leafed trees surrounding the duo, their branches twisting high into the atmosphere. A dense fog settled upon the forest, causing transparent clouds to float above the ground. The earth beneath them was carpeted in grassy tufts, interspersed with waving violet and white flowers. He switched his hazel eyes over to his partner, a grin spreading across his tanned face.

"You sleep well?" Kevin asked as he fixed his ultramarine beret that kept his wild, spiky orange hair in check.

Karl nodded with a tiny yelp. Chuckles escaped Kevin's mouth as he ruffled the young wolf's ears.

"Ahaha, Karl, that's a dog cry. You may still be little, but you still a wolf. Now this, _this_ is wolf cry!" Kevin stood up and tilted his head to the starry night sky and gushed forth a true wolf howl that broke the calm silence. For a split second, Kevin could feel his bestial heritage pounding through his veins, but when he stopped, the rush was over. He was glad of it, too, for it made his body tingle all over, as if something strange were to happen.

Patting his companion on the head with a dark skinned hand, Kevin commented aloud, "Me and Karl, so much alike. Karl look like wolf, but still a little puppy. Me, beastman, but human blood… and both, no mother." Sighing heavily, the young man gazed at the soft loam underneath him as he fiddled with the hem of his orange vest, tracing the blue tiger-stripes that also adorned his matching pantaloons.

Karl whimpered, nudging Kevin's hand with his cold, wet nose. Raising an eyebrow at the little pup, he declared, "It's okay! Karl friend! I protect like Karl's mother."

Giving a happy yip, Karl ran a short distance away, glancing over his shoulder to see if the beastman would follow.

"Wait up!" Kevin called as he jogged towards his friend.

Together they traversed the forest, with Kevin pointing out various things to the wolf pup. Here, a chipmunk, there, a vine that did a decent impression of a snake. Karl darted ahead again, becoming lost in the dense undergrowth.

"Karl? Where you go?" the beastman called out, searching for his beloved friend.

A yelp nearby caught Kevin's attention as he thundered through the bushes. He burst into a clearing, his eyes sweeping all over for a view of Karl.

And there he was. Something was different about him, though. His body was fuller, larger, as if he had grown into an adult in a matter of seconds. Crimson-misted eyes glared over a complete set of bared, yellowed fangs, unlike the tiny set of canines the normal Karl had. Hackles raised, the wolf circled Kevin warily, digging its claws into the dirt for supportive footage.

"What? What going on? What's wrong?" Kevin questioned as he backed up towards the nearest tree.

A snarl was his answer as Karl leapt for him, jaws aiming for the jugular. Kevin's martial arts training came to him as he dove under the wolf and came up on the other side. They squared off, each one looking for a clear opening to take control of the fight. Kevin faltered as he tripped over a rock, and Karl jumped in, clawing fiercely at his unprotected chest.

Spitting in his opponent's face, Kevin grasped the wolf about his middle and tossed him away like a rag doll. Blood dribbled down his chest in the creases of his muscles, outlining him in red. Karl took advantage of the lull and attacked again, biting deep into Kevin's ankle, down to the bone. Wailing in pain, the young beastman stomped upon the wolf's throat, forcing him to release his relentless grip.

"You not Karl," Kevin growled as he threw a right hook at the canine's face, narrowly missing. "Karl fight better. You no deserve fighting me."

Hisses of rage issued through the wolf's fangs as he pounced Kevin, biting into his left earlobe and tearing off a chunk of flesh. A bloody fight ensued as they rolled about on the ground, trying to gain the upper hand. Kevin had pure power and intelligence behind him, while Karl had instinct and agility.

Karl soon won out over Kevin, knocking him to the edge of consciousness. The beastman's mind swum through a fiery haze, his senses jumbled in a heap of anger and frustration. He couldn't let his enemy win. Not this warped, deformed version of Karl. He could conquer this wolf that thought he was king.

A terrible howl ripped from his lungs, filling the night air with its deadly sound. Something was happening, and Kevin knew it as his body began to change.

An immense strength flowed through Kevin's body as he bounded to his feet. Gray fur rippled over his dark skin and newfound tail, covering him like a blanket. His face elongated, turning into a true canine snout, complete with sharpened fangs and keen ears. Claws grew from the tips of his fingers and toes, similar to the ones a wolf had, fully capable of mauling a creature. Rips appeared in his clothes as his wrist and ankle bindings broke with the massive pressure of his transforming body.

Adrenaline and the potency of the moon pumped through his veins, lighting his usually calm eyes with Luna's fire. The wolf was unprepared for this and hesitated, allowing Kevin to close in for the kill.

Kicking high at the wolf's midsection, he sent the canine flying into the air, followed by a swift punch to the ribs, the cracking of bones rewarding him. Karl landed on the ground, his muzzle distorted with pain.

Kevin didn't stop, though. As Karl got up, the beastman delivered a series of hits to the wolf, finishing off with a roundhouse kick that sent the wolf burrowing into the soil.

Wolf and werewolf blood alike lay about the clearing as Kevin edged over towards his opponent. He gazed down upon the limp body, and it was then the realization that Karl was dying struck Kevin a heavy blow to his heart.

The fur receded as Kevin fell to his knees, his tail slurping back into his spine. His normal body came back to him as tears filled his aching eyes.

"Karl… what… what have I done?" he sobbed as he cradled the wolf's head in his lap.

Karl's tongue lolled out, licking Kevin's hand one last time. A high-pitched whimper fell upon Kevin's ears as he leaned down, tears drenching the wolf's fur. His head then rolled to the side, strangely heavy in the beastman's hands.

Karl was dead.

"No… no no no!" Kevin squalled as he let the lifeless body slip from his embrace. "What did I do? Why? _Why?!_"

The beastman raised his head to the sky, a plaintive wail pouring from his lungs and spreading through the forest. Grief and pain echoed through his body as he ended the keening lamentation, the only remaining sign being the liquid beads that dripped down his face.

"Why, Karl, why…"

Kevin leaned his forehead upon the cool glass, closing his eyes as his mind wandered back to the day before. The day that he finally discovered his bestial heritage and the dangerous blood that ran through his body. Being half-human and half-beast had many downfalls, the werewolf shifting being the most prominent.

Sighing, he pictured the site where he had buried his friend. A fresh mound of dirt lay upon the grave, weighing down the two sticks of bluebells, forever ringing to mourn the tragic loss of Karl. His life-long companion was gone now, only a memory in the corridors of his mind.

Who did he have to turn to now? He had only his fellow beastmen, who treated him with a distant respect and kindness. They would kid around with him and talk to him when he was bored, challenge him to duels after meals and pester him with questions about the royalty of the Beast Kingdom. There was no royalty, there was only power.

The power that his father, the Beast King, had. And it was he who looked upon Kevin with disgust, wishing he could be less gentle, less caring, and take up the true reigns of the beastmen kind.

Kevin was not that way, though; he wished only to live his life in peace and not be bothered. He wanted Karl back, the only one that he ever understood, and the only one that took time to understand him.

"I didn't protect Karl… I killed him," Kevin mumbled to himself. "Don't know what happened. Became beastman, one of them. I hate it. Hate it!" His shoulders shook as he heaved a mighty sob, all attempts to hold back his tears becoming futile.

"Hey Kevin, what's wrong?" a beastman shouted from across the room.

Kevin looked up through bleary eyes at the creature. The beastman was almost identical to his werewolf form; light brown fur, unkempt orange hair, complete with a green cloak and typical slate blue uniform.

"Nothing," he answered, walking away from the guard to wander the halls.

The young man traced his fingers over the walls as he ambled along, going over the bronzy columns and across the smooth, tarnished gold-colored walls. The navy blue tiles below him were cold on his bare feet, dust keeping the corners company.

A voice nearby knocked him from his thoughts as he crept towards a door, gilded with tuscan-painted hardwood. Pressing an ear firmly to the metallic parts, Kevin listened to the conversation going on behind it.

"By order of the Beast King, our war against the humans will immediately begin! Our first target shall be the Holy City Wendel," declared a recognizable voice, that of General Lugar. "It is payback time; we'll take their precious city and make them cry. And when we meet up with the Priest of Light, no mercy will be shown! Hang him! Gut him! He shall be our dinner on the night of our glorious victory. Show no mercy!"

"Show no mercy!" several other voices chorused in reply, those of warrior beastmen.

Kevin wondered what was going on. An invasion of the Holy City? Why?

Opening the door, Kevin stepped into the middle of militant beastmen, all chatting about their favorite tactics and ways to kill a human. In the back of the group he spotted Lugar, a smug grin upon his face as he saw Kevin.

"Hey Kevin, guess what?" the General smirked as Kevin came to stand in front of him. "We're going to invade the city Jad, and then move on to take Wendel! And the Beast King chose _me_ instead of _you_ to lead the invasion!"

Kevin muttered under his breath at this statement. He never liked Lugar, from the time he met the vicious beast in training camp. That blondish mane, that brown-gray fur, that powder blue vest and crimson sash and cream pants, those piercing, smoky eyes that struck fear into his opponents were all part of Lugar, the commanding General of the Beast Army, only second in rank to Kevin.

"Great," the young man growled with mocking sarcasm. "You gone for while then, eh?"

Lugar put his face close to Kevin's, hazel eyes matched against light gray. "Yes, Master, gone out of the Beast "Prince's" hair. Pitiful to know the Beast King didn't chose you to lead any invasion, huh?"

"Could care less," Kevin retorted, tempted to spit in the General's face.

"Aw, little baby, gonna cry?" Lugar snickered as he pushed Kevin roughly away.

"Never," Kevin growled, whirling to give Lugar his favorite roundhouse kick.

A lightning quick hand from Lugar grasped Kevin's ankle, holding him precariously balanced on one leg. "You try anything and you're dead, Kevin," Lugar snarled, letting go.

Glaring at his longtime enemy, Kevin backed away towards the door. "Have fun, Lugar. Hope you die."

"Go make daisy chains, pansy," came the hissed response.

Snorting, Kevin exited the room, anger raging through his mind. He never liked Lugar. And that was why.

Kevin leaned against the stone wall of the ramparts in the evening, gazing out at the sinking sun. He enjoyed the wild colors of the sunset, something that never penetrated into the Moonlight Forest. The sky was the thing he missed most when spending time with Karl down in the trees. His poor friend Karl…

Sighing, Kevin straightened up as the beastman guard walked by. It was about time to go inside and get dinner anyway.

As he treaded past a wall, Kevin heard sounds. Voices. His ears pricked up, latching onto the voices to try and identify them.

"Deathjester," a deep voice rumbled, "your dark magic pleases me." Kevin noticed the hints of power, command, and cunning in the voice, and knew it right away as the Beast King.

"As I said before, your Highness! Dark magic at your beck and call!" replied a whiny, high-pitched voice that Kevin had never heard before.

Deathjester, this creature was called? A magical being was let into the kingdom? Strange, for the Beast King usually despised any form of the supernatural. He pressed his ear firmly to the thin wall, listening in further on the conversation.

"You made a wolf pup turn into a true wolf and attack Kevin. Impressive, I must say," the Beast King complimented.

"What?!" Kevin cried, trying to keep his voice down.

"He can transform into a real werewolf now. Your job here is done. You may leave now." Heavy foot steps plodded away from the scene.

A strangled, surprised sound came from the Deathjester. "Beg your pardon? I just got here!" he exclaimed, hurrying to catch up to the departing Beast King.

Kevin could not believe what he was hearing. The Deathjester had used magic to make Karl into a full grown wolf that attacked him? That was what had happened? The Beast King had ordered this mysterious being to put a spell on Karl and have him try and kill Kevin just to make him turn into a werewolf? That was what the Beast King had wanted. He had wanted his son to become powerful, to become a true beast that would take over the reigns of the kingdom.

And he had done that at the expense of Kevin's best friend.

A wrath of fury took over Kevin's body as he pushed against the wall. There was no way to the other side, to the Deathjester and the Beast King, but through the wall. Backing up a few paces, Kevin lowered himself to the ground and charged the rocky formation, throwing all of his weight into it.

Raucous sounds filled the air as the wall split right down the middle, allowing Kevin to break through successfully. In a cloud of dust and rock shards, he hurtled through the sundered wall, landing on the other side. Shrapnel echoed off the ramparts as he skidded to a halt, his heart pounding rapidly.

"_Beast King, hold it!_" Kevin shouted at the top of his lungs.

The Deathjester whirled around and met the fiery eyes of the young beastman. He was a typical jester, dressed in the usual purple and teal wear. A floppy, three armed hat adorned his head, complete with golden bells that jingled as he moved. From the emotionless turquoise mask came the cry of "Aieee! Kevin!"

The Beast King was a fearsome sight as he faced Kevin. He was clothed in his full regalia of a copper and sapphire velvet cape and matching tunic, accented with orange wrist and ankle bindings. Silvery hair flowed from down his back, completing a full circle on his head with a dignified beard, contrasting with his fuscous fur.

A gruff laugh escaped his mouth as he saw his angry son before him. "Kevin, such hatred, such emotion! The blood of the beastmen runs strong in you. You turned into a werewolf, didn't you? You're truly capable of taking over the reigns of the kingdom, now. The Beast Kingdom, Kevin! It's part of me and now part of you. Never forget who you are!"

Kevin nodded towards the Deathjester, hands akimbo. "_You_ made Jester put spell on Karl, didn't you?"

"I had to do it for your own good, Kevin! Don't you see? He was a wolf pup, and abandoned orphan. Let nature take care of him. You need to be here and learn the ways of the beastmen and understand your history. Listen to your father, Kevin!" The Beast King held out his paws imploringly.

"_Give me one good reason to!_" Kevin yowled, urgency tinting his voice.

Chuckling at Kevin's mood swing, the Beast King answered, "Why, Kevin, aren't I the one that's given you all of this special training? I've given you everything that would make you the perfect heir. Getting you to become a werewolf was your last step. Now you have the power to become a king!"

"_Gah! Shut up!_" Kevin growled as he edged closer towards the Beast King.

The king's eyes narrowed as the beastman advanced upon him. "Don't even try it."

Kevin wasn't listening, though; he was vaulting forwards, snapping a quick uppercut towards the Beast King's chin that would surely knock him out. The Beast King was no fool, though. Catching Kevin's fist in a swift claw, he blasted him straight up into the air over the wall, out of sight and sound.

"Deathjester?" came the flat voice of the Beast King.

"Y-yes, your Highness?" the jester stammered back, still amazed by the feat of strength his master had shown.

"Go take care of Kevin." The swish of a cape followed as the Beast King pivoted and went inside his castle.

"U-understood!" the Deathjester stuttered in reply as he sprinted away to find the beastman.

Kevin landed flat on his back in the Moonlight Forest, nearly unconscious. He rubbed his sore forehead with a hand, gazing about at his foggy surroundings. "Back here again," he mumbled, sorely climbing to his feet.

A tinkling of bells alerted him and he whirled to face the Deathjester.

Growling menacingly, Kevin closed in on the jester. "What did you do to Karl? Give Karl back!" he demanded.

"Aiiieee!" the Deathjester wailed as he backed up. "It was the Beast King's orders! Not my fault at all!" He held up his hands, pleading for mercy. "The reason I came after you is that I know of a way to revive Karl and get him back!"

"Get Karl back?" Kevin questioned as he put down his fists.

"Yes, yes! I know of a way. You know that the Beast King is planning an invasion of the Holy City, Wendel, right?" The Deathjester waited for the consenting nod from the young man before continuing. "The Priest of Light lives in Wendel, and he should know of a way to get your beloved friend back."

Curling his lip up in a snarl, Kevin flung his head at the jester. "Lies! All lies!"

"I have no reason to lie! But you should hurry, before the Priest gets in a bit of a jam, you know," the Deathjester commented.

Sighing, Kevin put his hands down to his sides again. "Which way is Wendel?"

"This way!" A brief puff of smoke filled the air as the leaves in front of them shriveled up and disappeared. Kevin gazed down a faint dirt path that ran through the undergrowth of the forest.

"Just through the woods you'll find a charming little town by the name of Mintos. From there, all you have to do is follow the coastline until you get to Jad, the Castle City. Wendel is just a short hike away from there! Make haste, before Lugar and his fellows arrive!" The Deathjester then bowed and tipped his floppy hat to Kevin. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some important business to attend to. Ta-ta!"

The Deathjester snapped his fingers and disappeared into thin air.

Hanging his head, Kevin stared ahead at the path. "Karl… I'll go to Wendel to save you, just you wait. My precious friend, Karl…" He trailed off, trying to gain a hold of his emotions.

"But Beast King, not my father! That is why my mother ran." Starting to trudge along slowly, Kevin voiced aloud his next though. "Is mother out there?"

Gradually increasing his pace, Kevin ran blindly through the forest, his only company being the thoughts that raced through his mind. He thought of his mother, his father, Karl, the Deathjester, the beastmen, Lugar - each one a brief glimpse, a piece of his past.

But now Kevin was striking out into the unknown to make his future. Staying in the shadows, he crept through the Moonlight City, Mintos, not wanting to make a scene with the common people.

At the docks, Kevin gazed out over the water and towards the horizon. Somewhere, beyond the ends of the earth, lay the Holy City of Wendel where the Priest of Light resided. This priest that would be able to tell him how to bring back his precious friend and possibly find his mother that he never knew. The human mother that ran from the Beast King for the same reasons he was fleeing. Escaping, and becoming his own person with his own purpose in the world.


End file.
